My husband and I have not been very social since we lost our daughter. Neither one of us has had much interest in spending time with people. At first, the anxiety of being with others manifested physically- I would feel anxious, nervous, do my best to hold back tears. I was dealing with some pretty severe post traumatic stress and I couldn't even fake a smile if I wanted to. It almost felt painful; the amount of effort it took to engage in conversation or find laughter and pleasure in things that seemed so trite. Over time, I'm amazed to realize that we have gotten stronger and the desire to be with others has returned... to a degree. I'm a lone wolf, by nature. I don't particularly prefer the company of others to solitude. But, I do find genuine joy being with friends... something I didn't feel early on.
So that brings me to last night.... FUCKING LAST NIGHT. I have been feeling particularly tired lately. That's usually a sign of PMS for me which could have contributed to my sensitivity last night. Not only the PMS but also the realization that we, once again, are NOT pregnant this month since I'm experiencing those symptoms at all. But anyway, we decided to go to Freeport to have dinner and a beer with some friends. Friends we hadn't seen since February. Friends who came to see me in the hospital when I was holding on to Avery for dear life. Friends who brought magazines, books and tokens of their love. Good people. Kind people. People I feel safe with. When I show up, they are at a picnic table outside on the deck. I walk up to the table and hug our friends and then I'm introduced to the husband's sister. She exuberantly greets me and says, "I feel like I need to give you a hug". Which is my first signal that she knows too much about my life and my personal business and feels way more "connected" to me in some way, than I to her. So, I reluctantly accept her hug and sit down. She immediately makes me nervous with the way she's staring at me and I wonder what conversation took place prior to my showing up. I don't like being the topic of conversation- it makes me terribly uneasy. I very quickly feel like perhaps this was a bad idea. Small talk ensues; about how the summer is going, how their kids are doing. It's nice to see their faces again but I can tell they are searching for things to talk about that don't bring us to an uncomfortable place. Which ends up making me uncomfortable, anyway. So we order our beer and our meals. After about 30 minutes there is a lull in the conversation and the sister, very loudly, turns to me while I'm eating my salad and says, "I have been on EVERY fertility treatment out there and I know what it's like and what you're going through so if you have ANY questions at all, just ask!" I stare at her, completely caught off guard, dumbfounded and mortified that this drunk stranger has come at me like this out of nowhere. She's staring at me, as if she's expecting some kind of sigh of relief from me or gratefulness to pour out of me. Just staring excitedly and bracing herself for the slew of questions she is sure I'm about to unleash. I suddenly feel so completely exposed and naked. It takes ALL I can muster to say, "Thank you, I appreciate that." She continues to sit there, silent... waiting on me. I mumble something about how this is unknown territory for us so we're learning our way through it. She then cuts me off and continues to talk about the adoption of her now 4 and 8 year old kids and how EASY it was and how EASY they are. She must have said they are SO EASY about a dozen times. The topic of adoption interests me of course, so I put my embarrassment and anger aside long enough to ask her about how that experience was for her. And as she talks on about her experience I realize that nothing she says will be of any help or comfort to me whatsoever because she is the kind of person who loves to hear herself speak and the path her words are taking her are more for her than to actually help someone else. She is self important and egocentric. She is the type of person I hate the very most... and that is when I shut down and stop listening. After she's satisfied with hearing herself talk, she stops and like a cat distracted by something shiny she takes off to talk to someone else. I am left at the table with the our friend (the wife) and my husband (the sister's brother, our friend- the husband, was away from the table and missed the entire thing). The wife looks at me, tears in her eyes and says, "I'm so sorry... I feel like you were blindsided." I tell her that yes, I was, and that it's not her fault and I'll get through it. But, I already know that I won't. I already know that at some point in the evening I will be reduced to tears by this bullish woman and my experience with her. That fact makes me even angrier- that she... a nobody... will have had that effect on me. I realize, at that point, that I am a ticking time bomb and if anything else happens I'm not going to be able to take it. Everyone rejoins the table and I try my best- that's what I always fucking do... try my best to not draw attention to myself in my grief. But, at every turn, she brings up kids. We are outside at the table and there are a SLEW of children around and I mean, everywhere. Pregnant women apparently flock to this damn place too...everywhere. In essence, she asks everyone- EVERYONE- who comes over if they have kids. Like it's her fucking job. And with whatever their response is, she then sees that as her opening to talk about her kids and about how EASY they are and how they've changed her life and how she couldn't imagine a life without them. A guy makes his way over to talk for a bit because he knows our friend. She asks the question and he starts talking in detail about his wife being pregnant with twins and feeling them move when he touched her belly. On and on and she keeps asking more and more about it, like she is purposely torturing me. I excuse myself from the table and walk to the front of the building, trying to contemplate my next move. Do I simply leave? Do I pull it together and continue on with this garish woman? I go to the restroom and wash my hands and decide to go back, seeing as how my husband is still there. When I come back, two men have sat down where I was sitting so they make room for me next to my husband. And after 2 minutes, she starts talking about her kids and asking if the two men have kids of their own. "They're so EASY... I couldnt' live without them... they're so EASY", she says. And when the guy starts talking about how kids drive him nuts and how he's not a kid person and they're so messy and smelly I reach my breaking point. I look at my husband and say, "I have to go", and he understands. I hug our friends goodbye and as I'm hugging the wife, that fucking cunt sister is yelling over to me to get her email address from the wife so we can communicate via email and she can share her fertility and adoption experiences with me. I ignore her and walk away. Go to my car and cry a bit and wait for my husband to join me. I've officially added yet another person to the list of people I hate. And I do mean HATE.
I hate feeling attacked, and without control. Last night could not have been more of a nightmare. Even today, as I write about it, I want to find that woman and rip her face off. Apparently after I left, she asked if I was ok and my husband said I was not. She then said, "I know all about it... fertility issues are so hard." And him, being the wonderful man he is said, "It's not the fertility issue. It's the fact that we should have a 2 month old right now but instead she's in an urn on our mantel and we look at that urn day and night and miss her." That seemed to shut that bitch up.
